


I’m Afraid You’ll Die In Vienna

by Kate_Marley



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Death is from Vienna, German reunification, Historical, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, Humour, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4988029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Marley/pseuds/Kate_Marley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tuesday, 2 October 1990. The events to celebrate the German reunification are well underway when Austria receives a surprise visitor. (A little morbid, a little ironic, and possibly the most romantic PruAus story I’ve ever written—insofar as I’m able to write romantic stories, that is. And c’mon, guys, you know Prussia is way too awesome to die in 1990! Don’t let yourselves be fooled by my penchant for morbid titles.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’m Afraid You’ll Die In Vienna

Austria sat at his piano and played the Polonaise As-Dur op. 53 by Frédéric Chopin. His TV was switched on and he watched the celebrations on occasion of the German reunification, but he had turned off the sound. He always needed some Chopin when he was in emotional turmoil, and the fact that he preferred playing himself instead of listening to Kurt Masur conducting the concert performance of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 in D minor was a telltale sign.

Austria didn’t consider himself particularly Faustian, but as far as the reunification was concerned, two souls alas! were dwelling in his breast. One shared Germany’s happiness that what had been forcibly ripped apart was now finally mended; the other wondered if reunification really was what the people in the German Democratic Republic had taken to the streets for. He also worried about Gilbert, the personification of the GDR, who insisted on being called “Prussia”—even if he would rather have bitten his tongue off than said so. Austria knew Germany was sure nothing evil would befall his brother, but what if he was mistaken? What if Gilbert dropped dead at midnight— _now, that is rather improbable,_ the voice of reason said in his head—and what if he withered away and died in the years to come? _“If there’s anyone who can survive ceasing to be a separate country, it’s you”,_ Austria had told him right after the fall of the Berlin Wall. _“You’ve been the State of the Teutonic Order, you’ve been Prussia, you’ve been East Germany. You can become someone else once again.”_ He wished he was only half as certain about that as he had sounded then.

Austria wondered where Gilbert was now—celebrating with his brother and all those other people or shutting himself away, wondering if his life still made any sense? Austria’s heart clenched at the thought. He remembered only too well what he had done after his empire had been dissolved in 1918. The pistol still sat in the topmost drawer of his desk. He had been unable to bring himself to pull the trigger, though. Interestingly, something Prussia had said to him during the Wars of Liberation had stopped him then: When Prussia had become aware of Austria’s self-loathing because he considered himself responsible for the vanishing of the Holy Roman Empire, Prussia had told him to pull himself together. _“Perhaps it is your fault that Holy Rome has disappeared”,_ he had said in 1813, _“but it’s also your fault if you don’t bear up now and more of your people die because you’re a crappy fighter.”_ Austria tried to push away the sudden worry that nagged at him, but to no avail. He knew that he would feel so much better if he saw Gilbert on TV and could make sure he was well. While he had already caught some glimpses of Germany, Prussia was nowhere to be seen.

Ich sauf keinen Schnaps, ich sauf einen Pistolenlauf  
Baby, komm nicht zu spät nach Haus!

(I don’t booze schnapps, I booze a gun barrel  
Baby, don’t come home too late!)

_~ Wanda: Bleib wo du warst (Stay where you were) ~_

At first, he didn’t even hear the doorbell over the sounds of his instrument. When he did, Austria slammed his hands on the piano and stopped playing with a dissonant chord. He didn’t want to meet anybody now; he wanted to be alone. Still, the person standing in front of his door had probably heard him play, so it was futile to pretend not to be present. With a sigh, he rose from the piano stool and went to the door. He gazed through the viewer—and felt his heart speed up in his chest.

It was Prussia.

Ich sauf keinen Schnaps, ich sauf einen Pistolenlauf  
Baby, komm nicht zu spät nach Haus!

(I don’t booze schnapps, I booze a gun barrel  
Baby, don’t come home too late!)

_~ Wanda: Bleib wo du warst (Stay where you were) ~_

Austria needed three seconds to calm himself and to stop his hands from shaking. Then, he opened the door and gazed at Prussia levelly.

“Gilbert”, he said. “I’m surprised to see you. I assumed you were attending the celebrations in Berlin.”

“Um … yeah”, Gilbert said somewhat sheepishly, “I suppose I should’ve attended, but West was so happy and I…” He paused. “Can I come in?”

“My house is your house”, Austria said and gestured Prussia inside. It was true; Prussia had stayed at his house quite frequently over the course of the past year. “If you don’t mess up the kitchen, that is”, Austria added as an afterthought.

“Don’t worry, I have no intention to do so”, Prussia said as he stepped past Austria.

Austria didn’t like how sad … no, how _hopeless_ that had sounded. He waited until Prussia had settled in his armchair before he sat down on his sofa and asked: “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What?”, Prussia said harshly. “About the fact that I’m going to die at midnight?”

“You don’t know that.”

“But what if … what if I do? Do you really think I want spend my last hours standing somewhere in the cold, celebrating my own end?”

Austria sighed. “At least you’d spend your last hours together with your brother.”

Prussia shot him a curious glance. “So your brothers are the ones you’d want to spend your last hours with?”

Austria blinked. “Why, yes, of course. My whole family. Spain. Hungary. You.”

“But if … say, if you could choose only _one_ person. If you couldn’t tell your family where you are going, because they are celebrating and you don’t want to spoil everything with your gloomy mood…”

_“Oh.” Austria blinked again. He couldn’t suppress a warm feeling from spreading in his chest. “So I … I’m the person you’d want to spend your last hours with?”_

Bleib wo du warst!  
Bitte, Baby, bleib z’Haus bei mir!

(Stay where you were!  
Please, baby, stay at home with me!)

_~ Wanda: Bleib wo du warst (Stay where you were) ~_

“Apparently.” Prussia fidgeted nervously in his armchair. “Come on, Austria, don’t look so incredulous. Our rivalry basically made me what I became in the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and…” Prussia bit his lip.

“Yes?” Austria tilted his head to the side.

Prussia shot him a doubtful glance. “Do I really have to say it?”

“See”, Austria said, “of course I can sense what it is that you want to avoid telling me, but when I suspected I would die in the foreseeable future, I said it. I’d want you to know before I die.”

“But you already know, don’t you?”, Prussia asked in embarrassment.

“Perhaps”, Austria teased. “We won’t know for sure if you never say it, though.”

Prussia drew a deep breath. “Fine. So. Perhaps I’ve had a crush on you since…” He shot Austria a slightly uncertain look. “Longer than I thought”, he finished weakly.

Bleib wo du warst!  
Bitte, Baby, bleib z’Haus bei mir!

(Stay where you were!  
Please, baby, stay at home with me!)

_~ Wanda: Bleib wo du warst (Stay where you were) ~_

Austria also bit his lip—not out of embarrassment, but to hold back the laughter that threatened to bubble up in his chest. “Now, that wasn’t that difficult, was it?”, he said at last. “Any dying wishes?”, he continued in a conversational tone. “Do you want me to play the piano? Have some marble cake as your last meal? I actually made some this afternoon. No Sacher torte, I’m afraid. Ah yes, and I have plum brandy…”

Ich sauf keinen Schnaps, ich sauf einen Pistolenlauf  
Baby, komm nicht zu spät nach Haus!

(I don’t booze schnapps, I booze a gun barrel  
Baby, don’t come home too late!)

_~ Wanda: Bleib wo du warst (Stay where you were) ~_

Prussia scowled. “You’re not taking me seriously”, he said in an accusing tone.

“I do take you seriously”, Austria said, now in dead earnest. “You’re apparently forgetting something, though.”

Prussia cocked up an eyebrow, a very apt mockery of one of Austria’s favourite gestures. “And that is?”

Austria gave him a slightly predatory smile. _“Der Tod, das muss ein Wiener sein._ Death must be from Vienna, as Georg Kreisler sang. You’re in the capital of Death, my dear Gilbert, and if there’s one thing we, the people of Vienna know, it is how to celebrate Him.”

Ich sauf keinen Schnaps, ich sauf einen Pistolenlauf  
Baby, komm nicht zu spät nach Haus!

(I don’t booze schnapps, I booze a gun barrel  
Baby, don’t come home too late!)

_~ Wanda: Bleib wo du warst (Stay where you were) ~_

Prussia stared at him, blinking. “Sometimes you creep me out, you know that?”, he said at long last.

Austria stood up, only to sit on the elbow-rest of Gilbert’s armchair, crossing his legs. “You see”, he resumed in the same conversational tone as before, “you’ve lived in many cities: Acre, Jerusalem, Rome, Marienburg, Königsberg, Berlin, and Moscow, to name but a few. I’m sure all of them are interesting in one way or the other, but if you die—mind you, I don’t think you’ll actually die today—but _if_ you die, I hope it’ll be in Vienna, and I hope you’ll be here with me.”

Einmal willst du leben in Rom,  
Einmal willst du nach Berlin,  
Einmal willst du leben auf Hawaii,  
Sterben wirst du leider in Wien

(Once you want to live in Rome,  
Once you want to go to Berlin,  
Once you want to live in Hawaii,  
I’m afraid you’ll die in Vienna)

_~ Wanda: Bleib wo du warst (Stay where you were) ~_

Austria leaned towards Prussia. “Because that’s where you belong.”

Da g’hörst du hin.

(That’s where you belong.)

_~ Wanda: Bleib wo du warst (Stay where you were) ~_

Prussia stared at him as if Austria had just grown a second head. “Roderich—”

Austria thought this was the appropriate time to silence him effectively. He cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Prussia closed his eyes and went still. He didn’t try to deepen the kiss, but one of his hands was curling around the one Austria needed to balance himself on the armrest.

Bleib wo du warst, geh nicht hinaus,  
Bitte, Baby, bleib z’Haus bei mir.

(Stay where you were, don’t go out,  
Please, baby, stay at home with me)

_~ Wanda: Bleib wo du warst (Stay where you were) ~_

It was Prussia who first broke the kiss. “It’s to spend the night in the same room as you”, he said.

“What is?”, Austria asked a little confused.

“You wanted to know if I had a dying wish”, Prussia clarified. “I actually have. I want to spend the night in the same room as you.”

“You can spend the night in my bed”, Austria offered.

“Um…” Prussia started to fidget once more.

Austria sighed. “Please, Prussia, let’s not play this game again. Just say what you want to say.”

“Well, the thing is…” Prussia’s face turned scarlet. “I just want to have you know before that I just want to sleep next to you…” He faltered. “You know, when midnight comes— Damn, why does this have to be that difficult?”

“Let me have a guess”, Austria said. His patience was starting to wear thin. “You want to sleep by my side, but you don’t want to sleep _with_ me, because deep, deep down, you’re still more religious than you want to let on. You want to be prepared—well, at least _try_ to be prepared. _Watch therefore: for ye know not what hour your Lord doth come,_ as the Bible says.” He didn’t point out that there was a problem with Prussia’s preparations: The whole point of the biblical passage in question was that Death came when you did _not_ expect Him. _One more reason why it’s unlikely that Prussia will die today,_ Austria pondered.

“That’s true”, Prussia admitted, still rather red-faced, “so I thought—”

“Oh _Prussia,_ don’t make things more complicated than they are”, Austria interrupted him. “Stick to the good old rule: KISS.” He pecked Prussia on the cheek. _“Keep it simple, stupid._ And stay with me.”

Geh nicht hinaus,  
Bitte, Baby, bleib z’Haus bei mir.

(Don’t go out,  
Please, baby, stay at home with me)

_~ Wanda: Bleib wo du warst (Stay where you were) ~_

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

When Austria woke up, he was blissfully ignorant of what had happened the day before. It was only after he yawned sleepily and stretched his limbs that he realised the additional weight on his mattress. The next moment, he was wide awake. He willed his hand not to shake as he leaned to Prussia, holding his palm over his nostrils.

Prussia was still breathing.

Austria sighed with relief and wondered if he should follow his sudden impulse to kiss him. He decided it wouldn’t hurt—even if it could hardly be called _spontaneously_ any more when he leaned down and brushed his lips against Prussia’s. Prussia wrinkled his nose in his sleep and tried to flinch away. Austria couldn’t help giggling in a mixture of relief and genuine amusement.

Prussia frowned and blinked. “Am I dead yet?”, he asked.

“No, stupid”, Austria said, smiling.

“Ah, well, I just thought so because that was definitely among the more pleasant ways to wake up”, Prussia explained, grinning. “Way better than have West shout from downstairs, telling me to get my lazy butt in gear because it was six thirty already.”

“At six thirty?” Austria raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes I’m glad he isn’t _my_ brother.”

“It was also way better than having you freak out when you just realised you overslept and were now late for some rehearsals for a piano concert or meetings with politicians or something”, Prussia added and pulled Austria in an embrace.

“Prussia, that actually reminds me…”, Austria started, trying to glance at his alarm clock. “Oh dear. Quarter to nine already. I have to attend church coir practice at ten.”

“You’re _so_ predictable”, Prussia groaned and let his arms fall to his sides. “Can’t you just skip that?”

“Hardly, as I’m the organist”, Austria said in an amused tone and went out of bed.

“Oh my, Roddy, you’re such a _priss._ You’re like the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, always muttering _‘Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!’”_ Prussia quoted the White Rabbit in a high-pitched voice, causing Austria to turn and frown at him.

“You know, I think I prefer that subdued version of yours from yesterday evening to that Cheshire Cat personality you’re showing me now. Be a little nicer if you want a piece of my marble cake today.”

“Don’t you actually like cats?”, Prussia asked with a cocky grin.

Austria couldn’t help smiling.

Sterben wirst du leider in Wien  
Da g’hörst du hin.

(I’m afraid you’ll die in Vienna  
That’s where you belong.)

_~ Wanda: Bleib wo du warst (Stay where you were) ~_

**Author's Note:**

> I just realised I haven’t written a PruAus fic since January! It’s a bit self-referential this time, with allusions to stories I’ve already written and stories I want to write some time in the future.
> 
> **Wanda** is an indie pop rock band from Vienna; they mainly sing about love and death in an ironic way. Among their influences are Austrian pop/rock musician **Falco** (1957-1998, “Rock Me Amadeus”) and Austrian-American satirist and composer **Georg Kreisler** (1922-2011). Kreisler, who was Jewish and had to flee after Germany annexed Austria in 1938, is most noted for his morbid sense of humour as well as for his sharp social criticism. His song title _Der Tod, das muss ein Wiener sein_ (Death must be from Vienna) is considered a spot-on characterisation of Viennese mentality. The _Zentralfriedhof_ (Central Cemetery) in Vienna is the largest in Europe by number of the interred and it is among Vienna’s main tourist attractions.
> 
> “Two souls alas! are dwelling in my breast” _(Zwei Seelen wohnen, ach! in meiner Brust)_ is a quote from “Faust I” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (translation by G. M. Priest), and “Watch therefore: for ye know not what hour your Lord doth come” is a Gospel quote (Matthew 24,42). I used the King James Bible because I love its language. :)
> 
> The **Polonaise As-Dur op. 53** by Polish-French composer **Frédéric François Chopin** (1810-1849, born Fryderyk Franciszek Chopin) was composed in 1842. Chopin’s lover George Sand (1804-1876, actual name Amantine Aurore Lucile Dupin de Francueil) called it “Héroique” because she considered it a “heroic” symbol for the French Revolution. Chopin was much more reserved when it came to giving his pieces titles. He dedicated the polonaise to German-Jewish banker Auguste Léo (1793-1859, actually August Leo), patron of many artists.
> 
> ~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
> 
> German translation: <http://www.fanfiktion.de/s/561d7dd200042e2731f9d79b/1/Sterben-wirst-du-leider-in-Wien>


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